


The Intruder

by ionlyjoinedforfanfic



Series: The Good Girl [13]
Category: Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Aggression, Angst, F/M, Minor Character Death, Protective Donald Pierce, Serious Injuries, Violence, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27432289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyjoinedforfanfic/pseuds/ionlyjoinedforfanfic
Summary: Still recovering from his injuries, Donald must protect himself and you from an intruder.
Relationships: Donald Pierce/Reader, Donald Pierce/You
Series: The Good Girl [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982072
Kudos: 2





	The Intruder

Darkness hung in the room as heavy as your limbs and the lids of your eyes. You didn't know if was really late or really early, but you knew you should be sleeping like your lover next to you. Donnie was sound asleep, he looked comfortable given his injuries, snoring slightly rather than his usual deep breathing but you assumed it was to do with him being on his back as much as the bruised ribs that restricted his airways. Even in his broken state you envied his slumber however your bladder had other ideas. You pulled back the comforter, the sharp cold air stole the warmth of the bed from you. You made your way to the bathroom, your bare feet slapping, the heavy lead of sleep weighing you down.

Happily, you were not much more awake after your relived yourself, hopeful that sleep would return quickly, however, as you stepped out of the bathroom you noticed the soft yellow light bleed under the door. You knew its source - the lamp in the living room, you must have left it on. You thought about leaving it, but your mouth was dry and a gulp of cold milk was too tempting. You might as well take a detour, the bed wasn't going anywhere.

As you opened the door the golden hue washed over you, flooded the darkened refuge of your bedroom. You shuffled forward into the light, found yourself rubbing your eyes to adjust to the illuminated surroundings. You reached the end of the small corridor and the room opened up, scanned for the neglected lamp. You always found it strange wondering the house in the middle of the night, even your own, the same but different somehow - the quiet, stillness disturbed by your presence. Yet yours was not the only presence in the room. There in the middle of the living room stood a figure. A man, who seemed to be cast in shadow despite the glow of the lamp filling the space. You didn't remember making the decision to scream, it was a physical reaction like your stomach lurching and your heart pounding. You wouldn't have even be sure you had (the sound so detached and unrecognisable as your voice) only for the raw, stinging graze the fear left in your throat as the wail escaped.

The intruder's eyes met yours, narrowed as if he locked on to a target. Frozen with fear, you wanted to run but couldn't, you wanted to tell him to take whatever and leave but you couldn't. That moment of fear seemed to stretch forever, though in reality it was soon interrupted by the appearance of another. The large, muscular frame of Donald stepped in front of you, his arm outstretched and scooping you behind him so that he shielded you from the unwanted visitor.

You hand indistinctively reached out to touch your protector, his broad shoulders rising and falling with heavy breathing both from exertion and anger.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" The fury clear as he yelled at the unwelcomed visitor, "You made a mistake comin' here?"

You peered around Donald to look at the intruder, he was young and pretty unextraordinary, somewhat dishevelled, in his left hand he held your large umbrella that had been in the stand near the door, it would have been comical if not for the pure rage in his eyes.

"I don't think I have." he said, pointing forward at Donald's injuries.

"Now, now Bryant, how'd you think this is going to end? People already lookin' for you. Close by too.” Donald knew him. Donald knew who had chosen to break into your home. The thought that this wasn’t some random home invasion made your stomach knot, the idea that someone hated Donald so much they would seek him out, made bile rise and burn in your throat. “You could go now, I'll tell 'em you went east, get ahead of ‘em." Donald's voice changing, now feigning concern, dripping with charm though you knew his anger would be bubbling beneath.

Bryant snorted, "Yeah right, it's not going to stop. They…you will never stop." His hand hitting his own head, tugging at his hair, consumed by his own struggle before glaring back, "Unless I stop it."

He didn't look like he could better Donald, but your lover was broken. You wondered if that's why Donald was holding back, you always assumed he would leap into a fight, maybe his injuries more debilitating than he had admitted, maybe it was your presence that stalled him or maybe he knew that a man on the edge was more dangerous than a trained killer.

Then something strange happened, the umbrella the intruder had been holding transformed - mutated into some sort of implement, black and hard, sharp and threatening. The intruder had changed it, constructed a fierce weapon with only one purpose. He was a mutant. The mutant who Donald had been tracking, the mutant that had bested him only days ago. You let out a gasp, Donald half turned to you.

"It's okay baby, it's all goin’ to be okay." Then he turned back to the intruder, "Look, just let her go. She isn't part of this, she hasn't hurt anyone." Donald shuffling towards the back door, his arm behind him corralling you there. But the monster lurched.

"No." He screeched and you both stopped in your tracks, "She stays. My sister didn't hurt anyone and it didn't stop you."

"Now, now that wasn't personal. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else. She's fine. She’s safe." Donald continued with his charming façade but his words were delivered through gritted teeth, you knew he was seething.

"Oh locked up. Experimented on. Cos that's better." Bryant scoffed.

Donald peered back over his shoulder once more, his features softening slightly for you, the fear in his blue eyes clear as he slowly began backing you both down towards the corridor as the mutant readied himself.

"Baby, when you can, you lock yourself in bedroom, call Hopkins on my phone. Don’t come out. Do not come out… Baby?" You nodded. He turned to Bryant, "Now mutie this is your last fuckin’ chance to get out of my house." His voice spewed pure anger, the younger man didn't falter. He had made his decision as soon as he entered the house, consumed and committed to his rage, determined to take down who he saw as responsible for his plight. Then he made his move, yet Donnie was faster. He lunged, practically sprang forward as he screamed at you to run.

You made for the bedroom, the crash of furniture overturning and the sound of clashing of bodies filling the air, but then a pain filled wail from Donnie stopped you. Donald was a dangerous man, strong and skilled, but so very injured and the fear of losing him took control. You darted into the kitchen instead of the safety of the bedroom and retrieved a knife from the block that was on the counter. You rounded the corner to the living room to see the two men entangled together. Donald's metal hand had a firm grip on the sharp weapon, managing to keep it from inflicting harm but it hindered his movements. Donald's naked, muscular body larger than the intruder's but damaged and mottled with purple bruises which the younger and smaller man exploited - jabbing and hitting at Donald's already mutilated ribs.

You screamed for them to stop, your appearance seemingly shocking both men from their violent dance. Donald glared at you, he was scared for you, pleaded for you to leave. The other perplexed that you were stood there at all, eyes widened at the sight of the knife.

"I'll use it, I will." You held it out in your quivering hand.

He laughed at you, so pathetic, so weak. He hit out at Donald once more, used the momentum to propel himself forward towards you.

"To think I nearly felt sorry for you, was thinking about leaving you alone." He spat at you, words full of venom, brandishing the black weapon of his own creation. It dwarfed the simple steel kitchen knife and you stepped back losing your nerve. He went to rush at you, and you froze in fright for the second time, knife out in front of you but before he plunged into it, he fell to the floor. The thump of his body hitting the ground overwhelmed by the ringing of the shot.

Donald was stood up, his naked body heaving for breath and covered in fresh red marks and welts, accompanying the older purple bruises. The gun he retrieved from his bags still smoking in his hand. He stepped forward, loomed over the body and fired his gun twice more. You retreated until you bumped into the couch behind you, then sank to the floor. The intruder, Bryant's body splayed out only a few feet in from of you, blood began to pool beneath him. The clean knife clattered as you dropped it to the floor, held your head in your hands. Satisfied the threat was gone, Donald rushed to you, knelt beside you, his warm arms pulled you to him, frantically kissing your head and face.

"It's over baby. It's over. You're safe now. You're safe."

\---X---

You sat on your bed, hugging your knees to your chest, reliving the events over and over, trying to make some sort of sense of everything. You were warm but your skin remained pimpled. The door was open and you could hear the swarm of men in the other part of the house. You had a guard, one of Donnie's men - large, clad in black fatigues, a vest and weapon, stood at attention. Official and stern. You didn't recognise him. He stood aside to let his commander in, he was relieved of his post as Donnie closed the door behind him. He was wearing a black t-shirt and combats, the outfit he'd thrown on afterwards. He sat on the bed at your feet, you noticed him wince as he did, he tried his best but his smile was weak and not quite as reassuring as he hoped it would be.

"How are you feelin' baby?" You shrugged, salty water filling your eyes. His hand reached for you, offered affectionate touches. You wanted to be brave so you swallowed your tears.

"How are you?" Tilting your head down to the bruised torso his shirt was hiding.

"I'll live." You glared at him, he was already in pain before that thing came an attacked him. He could see his response wasn't satisfactory. "I'm okay baby, I promise. Runnin’ on adrenaline and pain meds - medic gave me something to keep me upright. I'll be sore tomorrow but no worse off." You nodded and tried to smile, more content with the answer - it still upset you to see him hurt but it was so much better than what could have happened. Oh the things that could have happened - you pushed the dark thoughts from your mind.

"Sweetheart, you need to try and get some sleep... I was thinkin' one of the guys could take you to hotel till we're done." as he talked you shook you head in refusal. "To Krissy's then, she has a spare room. Just till we're done, Peters would stay with you till I got there."

"No, I'm not leaving you." You're pleading more than affirming, but Donnie must have expected as much because he didn't press the issue further.

"Okay, okay." Stroking you with his mechanical hand, his other delved into his pocket retrieving a syringe. Your eyes widened and Donald responded to the unspoken question, "It's a sedative, a mild one. It'll help you sleep. When you wake up everyone will be gone and this will all be over."

"Where will you be?"

"Right here baby. Soon as they're gone, I'm going curl up beside you, I'm beat." You looked between Donnie and the needle, nodded approval. "Good girl." He removed an antiseptic wipe from his pocket, tore it open and used it on your upper thigh, where his fingers had played earlier, it was cold and tingled. He took the cover of syringe off with his teeth revealing the short point which he plunged into your flesh. You felt the cloudy heaviness of sleep soon enough and lay down on the bed. Donnie stayed with you until you succumbed to slumber - the last thing you remembered was his plump broken lips pressing a kiss to your head.

\---X---

It took you a while to come round, sleep retreating, mind awake, body slow to follow, struggled to open your eyes. You felt Donnie beside you, his fingers stroking your hair, coaxing you to him. He greeted you when you finally opened your eyes. He sat upright, a black t-shirt covering his injuries, had papers and his phone next to him - he'd been working.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly noon."

You groaned, you'd been out for hours, "Why didn't you wake me?"

It caused him to chuckle, "I couldn't even if I wanted." You propped your arm beneath you, tried to rise but you were groggy and you scowled. "Baby what does it matter? I only woke up myself an hour ago."

"What time did you come to bed?"

" Gone six. Sun was comin' up." He shrugged nonchalantly. Your expression softened little.

"Are you working?"

"Er just sortin’ a couple of things." He shut down the question, he so often did when he didn't want to talk or wanted to change the subject. "You want coffee? I made a pot."

"OJ please, or water." He nodded, already out of bed.

You're sitting when he returned and passed you a glass. He settled back at your side, welcomed you into the crook of his arm though you tried not to put your weight on him, thinking of the damage the black cotton was hiding.

You sipped the orange, at first the cold liquid refreshed your parched mouth. You sat in silence Donnie's fingers drawing patterns on your arm. It was all so strange, you were woozy and the whole thing seemed like some horrible, terrible dream - everything looked exactly like it did when you went to bed but it wasn’t, nothing would ever be the same again. You took another sip, the images of the mutant whirling in your brain, his dark eyes, the weapon that materialised, his blood. The tangy liquid bubbled back up into your throat and you sprang from the bed retching.

Donnie followed, crouched beside you on the tiled floor as you heaved burning bile into the toilet. You felt his mechanical hand rest on your back, rubbing large circles.

"That's it sugar get it all out...you’re okay, you're okay." When you’d finished you turned to face him, your cheek leaning against your arm, shielding you from the cold, white porcelain, his expression soft, eyes filled with concern. "Feel better baby?"

All you could do was stare, but the enormity of it all was too much to contain, too much to swallow, you shook your head as tears started to fall, moved to him, collapsing into him, buried your face into his chest.

You stayed there for a while, both sitting on the bathroom floor Donnie's long arms enveloping you, comforting you. His black t-shirt soaked with tears, he said very little but kissed you and petted your hair. After a time, you calmed but didn’t make to move, absentmindedly your fingers sought out his neck - traced the devilish skull, tattooed there. If only the demon was real and could be summoned to protect your both rather than remain a silent observer. It was Donnie who broke the silence.

"Baby I was thinking we go to my place for a little while."

You raised your eyes to meet his, "To Mexico?" He gave a little nod. "For how long?"

"However long you want?"

You thought and after a few minutes, "What about work?"

"You wanna go to work?" He cocked his eyebrow as he titled his head to make eye contact.

"I guess not. Not yet."

"I just think we both need some R and R, and I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone...we should be together.”


End file.
